A friend from church comes over with his four-year-old son. The boy has a half-scale toy Winchester similar to this one. He points it in my face and makes a shooting noise.
“Don’t point that at me.”
“I told him it was okay,” says the dad, who is also a bigtime firearms guy.
“It’s not okay.”
Boy shoots me a second time, and I push the barrel away a second time and say, “Don’t shoot me!”
“I told him it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I say, as the boy aims at me a third time and shoots me again.
This time I grab the end of the barrel and yell at him forcefully, “DO NOT POINT THAT AT ME!!”
“That really bothers you?” asks the father. “I told him it was okay.”
“It’s not okay with me,” I tell him.
Indulged little boy, dad who owns many guns and lots of ammo and I hope nobody ever gets killed because the boy can’t tell the difference between a toy gun and a real gun and a real gun that, for critical moment, is a toy in his four-year-old mind.
The dad invited me to participate with him in the fall in a competitive pistol shooting league and I now have serious doubts.